And This Time
by LaughingLadybug
Summary: My continuation of the Epilogue "Max." When Max returns, he makes a promise, one he's already made, but this time he means it. AU: Max and Liesel are only seven years apart in this. Max/Liesel
1. The Return of Max Vandenberg

When he came back, so much had changed. The safe haven he had hidden in when he was a teenager was now gone. As he walked down through what is now a graveyard, memories had flooded his mind. The smell of paint in a basement, the feeling of seeing the stars for the first time as a siren screamed in his ear, and a girl. A single girl that seemed to be the good in the bad. She was only seven years younger than him. By now she'd be 19. He tried to picture the young girl he knew as a woman. Does she still paint pictures in mid-air with her words? Does she still steal books?

Is she still the Book Thief he knew?

If you were lost and followed this man, you'd assume it was a good idea. For someone who had not seen this place in two years, you'd think he had lived here his whole life. Not a single rock was tripped over, not a single turn was made too short or too sharp. He flowed through this diseased place as if he had never left.

Suddenly, he stopped in front of a little shop. The windows were clean and the dark blue paint smelt fairly new. The sign above the door read Alex Steiner and he gulped. _Please don't let me down. I need her to live. I need her words to live. _He placed a hand on the door and stepped inside as the bell over the door chimed in, alerting the owner of his presence. "Hello Herr Steiner. You would not happen to know where I can find a Liesel Meminger?"

Alex Steiner looked up from his work, "And may I ask, who you are?" The older man felt protective of the girl that his son was so fond of. It was like he was protecting a forgotten treasure. No one may touch her. No one may dare harm her any more. Rudy would fight this man if he dare persist to see her without identifying himself. Rudy would fight for her and so would he. For his son, he would fight.

As the two went back and forth, Liesel was in the back, reliving the past. The smell of apples infiltrated her nostrils. Soon she could hear Rudy's charmingly obnoxious voice. And if she closed her eyes, she could practically feel him next to her. She could feel the boy with the hair the color of lemons right next her, begging her for a kiss. She dared to smile a small smile and shook her head. "Then let's go steal something."

"I can't," she murmured to the air. "I cannot steal, my hands have forgotten how. Your soul grabbed my living hands to take me with you, but I could not go, so you settled for the thief that lived inside of me." She could see him frowning and it caused her pain. She grabbed the table for support and steadied herself.

"Liesel," Mr. Steiner called from the front, "someone's here to see you." Someone has come to see her? All the people that would dare waste their time for her were either dead, in this store, or home. Mama, Mama Meminger, Papa, Rudy…Max; all of them gone. She winced at the thought of Max. So many ways he could have died. He probably died cold and alone, shivering or starving or suffocating. Max. They broke their promises to each other. He left and she left him alone. It's all her fault. If she had never told Rudy, he'd never have left and if he never had left, then maybe things would be different.

"Coming," she called, trying to sound more stable than she felt. As she walked to the front of the store, time slowed down. It felt like she was wading through molasses. But then it all melted away when she saw the feather haired, clean shaven man, standing happily in front of her. "Max."

"Liesel," he breathed. They wrapped their arms around each other and fell to the ground, sobbing in joy. At last, they had found some happiness.

They laughed, they cried and just relished in the fact that it was all over. That this was really real. Not some fantasy. A world of chances was finally opening up.

Later that night, after Max had untangled himself from Liesel after she fell asleep, he and Alex had a long talk. "So you're him," the German muttered to the Jew.

"Him," Max said quizzically. "Him who, may I ask."

"The one that she begs to stay in her sleep, the one that she wonders about" he said, before taking a sip of beer, "The man in her story."

Max truly did feel shocked and flattered. All this time and she was the one he thought about. "What story," was all he managed to get out. It was her words, her stories was what he was dying to hear again.

"There once was a man with feathers for hair and a clean face and a small German family. He stumbled into a small family's life only half alive and clinging to a book," Steiner recited.

"The man's father had died for the father of the small family. The father who lived owed a debt to the father who'd died. He made a promise that he'd help his dead friend's family when the time came . And the time came at the worst time possible."

Alex stopped, trying to remember the next line. He's older man now, and his memory is starting to go. Trying to remember the words of a nineteen year old girl is like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands. Silently, he got up and walked to his desk, then pulled out a small black book and handed to the other man. "Why don't read the rest yourself?"

He nodded, "Thank you Herr Steiner."

"You're welcome Max. Goodnight."

"Goodnight." As soon as the older man was gone, Max continued reading where Steiner had left off.

_And in that very family the half alive man fell into was a girl. This girl was stalked by death. It followed her wherever she went. She could feel it hovering around her, looking over her shoulder. It killed her brother, it's the reason her mother gave her away, and she could feel it hovering around her. So to keep it away from this new family, she pretended to be dead while still breathing. She stopped living and life seemed to flow past her like ink flowing out of a busted pen. _

_Then the half dead man, who came into her life because of death in fear of experiencing death himself, taught her how to live. And all it took was the power of words._

_But, when he started coming to life right before her very eyes, he was carried away like a feather on the wind. He marched himself through the street named after Heaven to his own death. _

_And despite everything the girl saw, she refused to believe that death got him too. She knows that he'll march back into her life and she'll touch his face to see if he's real. To see if the man she had once known, the one that she and her family kept secret from the world, would come marching back into her life and she'll touch his face to see if it's really him._

_And after he smiles, he'll grimace in pain. After he's given satisfaction he'll feel the sting of punishment for being born what he is and acting what others deem, "out of his place." For this man was born a Jew and him daring to touch a German was sin in their eyes. He'd be whipped for doing so. And the so will the German for letting him. They both know that happy ending aren't always there. Sometimes when life robs you, you have to rob it back. And other times you have to take what you have left and make it as happy as you can._

Max sat next to Liesel as she slept on Steiner's couch. He felt totally and completely speechless. So she had this much faith? She missed him this much? But then another dreaded thought came to his mind. He broke his promise. He left and then everything turned bad. And the poor man couldn't help but feel guilty for the things beyond his own control. And though he knew it was the war that tore this innocent girl's life apart, he couldn't help but feel as if he's the one who ripped it shred by shred in front of her. So he leaned in close and whispered a promise he had made two years ago only slightly revised. "I'll never leave you again, Liesel, not as long as I shall live."

Though he said it before, this time it was not just to comfort her little ears. No, this time he meant it. And this time he'd keep it.


	2. Remembering

The day was as cold as the one before it. The leaves beneath his feet crunched like Saratoga chips. Only October air is clean enough to make your lungs burned. Max shivered and wrapped his coat around him tighter. Hopefully Liesel had a warm fire going and maybe a place for him. The rebuilt Himmel Street, it looks the same but feels so different. There are blonde and brown haired children playing soccer, and mothers beating rugs out their windows and fathers talking about the news.

The Americans, the Americans. That's all he's hearing. Well, at least that's the constant variable of what's he's hearing. Either they're horrible or wonderful. To Max, they're miracle workers. They're miracles in themselves. He was on the brink of death before Dachau was liberated that day.

Dachau was evil itself. Max was tormented day and night. During the day, his tormentors were the steely eyed Nazis. This was easier on him than you think. Yes, their physical punishment and cruel words were torture. Wounds heal and only leave small scars that eventually fade. Words were worse. They break people. They never leave. Their remnants are always there. Words are what started the nightmare that (at that time) he thought would never end. And even two years later, Max Vandenberg remembers the words of his tormentor.

**WORDS OF A NAZI**

**You were born to die.**

That rarity of truth in that awful time is still bone chilling. He knew he was born to die, he knew everyone dies (he's seen it happen enough) but his isn't how he wanted to die. And by God's good grace he didn't. But, sometimes, he wished he had died.

It wasn't the Nazis that bothered him. It wasn't the weather that scared him and it wasn't the sting of the whip, nor was it the smell of burning flesh, not even the words hurt.

It was the nightmares.

Some gave false hope. Some made him think he was back at 33 Himmel Street and all this was just an awful dream only to wake up and find himself in Dachau.

Others were terrifying. One was of him passing out, being mistaken for dead and burned alive. But the worst one was one of a memory.

* * *

_He shuffled his aching feet with the dreaded knowledge of there only being four miles left. His swampy eyes were searching the crowd of Germans for one face. An innocent face of a girl with German blonde hair and the same dark eyes he was cursed with. He was hoping with everything in his being that she wasn't there. He didn't want her to see this. Max wanted her to stay inside her flat with her Mama and Papa and not see him. She's like her father. She'll run to him. She'll get hurt._

_Be a good girl, stay inside and help your Mama Liesel. Don't come see. Don't call my name._

_This was all in vain. She searched through the sea of walking dead men and women, looking for him. He didn't see her at first, otherwise he would've ran. "I'm here Max. Max, I'm here."_

_He turned and saw her, despite himself, he felt joy. She looked healthy and strong. "Liesel." She ran towards him and fell over her own feet. The Jew bent down and helped her up._

"_I'm here Max," she said again, "I'm here."_

"_I can't believe…" he started. "Look how much you've grown." The small smile he had allowed himself disappeared. "Liesel…they got me a few months ago. Half way to Stuttgart." _

_All the others maneuvered around them. Thankfully no soldiers had seen her yet. Her arms were around his toothpick frame in a chokehold. He tried pulling away, but his starving arms couldn't do it. She was stronger than him._

_And then his fears for her become reality._

"_Hey girl," the soldier called. "What are you doing? Get out of there!" She ignored him and clung to Max. She even tried walking with him, despite his insistence that she do as the soldier says. The Nazi advances and fear takes over his body. Liesel sees him and her face takes on a quizzical look. _

_He manhandles her clothes and throws her aside. Max wants to fight. He wants to protect, but he can't. He knows can't. _

_The fight's been whipped out of the Jewish Fist Fighter._

_Liesel runs for him again and tries to walk along side, "I said get out," the soldier yells. And with great terror he watches the man take the word shaker by her collar and throw her into the wall. Before he had the chance to run to her, the soldier prodded him forward like a cow._

_He felt someone walking behind him, but did not look behind him. Jewish scum did not look almighty German soldiers in the eyes. It was a sin to them. _

_Then he heard her softly say it, his name. A simple name made up of just three letters. And then she recited the book he left for her. The Word Shaker. "Is it you?"_

"_Yes, it's me," he sighed defeatedly. It was a tone he was used to by now._

_Then the beating starts. Oh how the whip stung. But he was used to it, Liesel wasn't. The soldier screams at her. He calls her awful things. Max's hands itch and more than anything he wishes to leap off the ground and start a fist fight. But he can't. He doesn't have the heart to die in front of her._

_As a boy with hair the color of lemons pins her to the ground while bruises begin to form, Max is doing one last push-up. He stifles a small grown and goes back to shuffling his aching feet. The last thing he hears is her crying begging this boy, Rudy to get off and let her go, her calling to him, while Rudy calls to someone named Tommy for help. And if it were possible, Max's heart breaks more than what it already was for her. Because of him, she's down and out._

* * *

Max shakes the awful nightmare out of his head. No need for that kind of thinking now. Today is a new day. That was then, this is now.

He looked up to find that somehow, someway, he made his way to 33 Himmel Street without running into a wall. He knocked on the door and waited. "I promise, Herr Starling, the rent will be-" she looked up and her eyes brightened, "Max!" The blonde wrapped her arms around him. "I thought you were leaving today for Stuttgart?"

"I was," he started, "but I realized that I had a few things to do here first." The book thief's forehead crinkled. _What? What things? _ She was confused. What comes before family? Surely, if they were captured, they'd be liberated and looking for him. She didn't know much about his family, but surely they were close. "Your parents took care of me and I'm going to take care of you," Max said with a smile.

She smiled back kindly as she let him in. "Max I'm-"

"Don't say you're fine."

"I am fine. I can take care of myself," she said. "Max. I'm not a little girl anymore. I don't need an adult."

He rolled his eyes. This is what happens when sweet little children grow up. They think they know everything. "Liesel; I'm not leaving you here by yourself. "

"Why not," she challenged.

All of them were biased answers about her being a woman. Each and everyone started with "A beautiful young woman such as yourself…" which he knew wouldn't work. So, what did Max Vandenberg do? He lied. Well sort of.

**THE LIE**

**Her father made him swear to keep her safe if he survived Hitler's reign. **

"Papa made you promise that," she questioned.

"You don't believe me," Max asked, feigning hurt.

"Well, it's that….Papa wouldn't say something like that," she answered quietly as a blush rose to her pale face.

**THE TRUTH**

**Max had sworn to Hans that he would repay him someday. To Max someday has come and Liesel was how to repay his debt. Besides, he couldn't bear to see his Word Shaker hurt ever again.**

"It's the truth!"

"If you say so," she said as her brown eyes looked down.

Max tilted her chin up, "Pretty eyes don't deserve to stare at the ground." She smiled a little and pulled away.

"Do you have a place to stay," she asked. He rattled off with a round of "ums" and "uhs" causing her to laugh. "Let me be the first to offer you a home. Max Vandenberg, would you like to stay the night?" He nodded, his feathery hair flapping like a bird. "Would you be taking a room or a basement?"

He laughed and actually half considered the basement. So many wonderful memories were made in a basement. But, he had spent enough time on a cold floor. He missed a bed. "Why don't we switch things up and go with room this time around?"

They laughed together, just like old times.

**THE THING ABOUT HAPPY MOMENTS**

**They're called happy _moments_ for a reason.**

**They don't last long.**

As they sat down to the small dinner that Liesel could provide. Max's stomach filled with guilt. She could barely feed herself and he's forcing her to feed him too. He considered leaving but then Hans and Rosa entered his mind and he kicked the thought away. He can't leave. He's left once and look what that did.

They were silent for a long time, just enjoying each other's company when Liesel said, "I tried."

"You tried what," Max asked. "What do you mean? If you're talking about dinner, it's excellent."

"No," she mumbled shamefully. " I tried to come and get you. Dachau is or was only four miles. I thought I could run or ride to you and steal you away like I stole Ilsa's books. I thought I could do it. I really thought I could. I tried, but…."

"But what," Max asked, sounding more eager than he meant.

"I was shot at," she mumbled. "The soldiers standing guard outside popped my bike tire. It scared me so badly that I made pretend that I was lost. A soldier escorted me home." She winced. "I got the biggest watschen from Mama. And a long lecture from Papa."

"And what did you learn, young lady," he teased.

"Don't tell Nazis where you live," she answered. Whether she was sincere or not, he didn't know.


	3. Goodbye

Every step she took was deliberate. Every movement had a reason. It was like a carefully planned dance. Max put his paper down and watched. The wheels were turning in her head, just planning what step was next. Then, Liesel looked up. Max raised his eyebrow, just question what was going on up there with a half -smile. She smiled in return. It was small but there. "Yes," Max asked.

"Yes what," she ask innocently.

"You have something planned," he said.

"I do," she confirmed. Max smiled.

"Care to share Fraulein Meminger," he teased. She shook her head, "Oh, don't keep me in suspense," he begged.

"Later," the book thief promised. He sighed dramatically, as if it was the greatest disappointment in the world. Later came sooner than she expected. There was a knock at the door. Her dark eyes locked with his, darted to the door, then back to Max. He leapt up and raced to the door, as did Liesel. The two of them raced to the door, bumping each other out of the way. It was Max who made it to the door first, only to be greeted by a face from the past.

"Walter," the Jew cheered.

"Max," the ex-Nazi crowed back.

Liesel left at this point, disappearing into Max's room to pack his things. Hers had been packed for days.

The two men gave a quick embrace and Walter clapped Max on the shoulders, "You have no idea how happy I am to see you, Max. I thought you were dead!"

"For a while I thought I was too," he replied "How'd you find me in all this chaos?"

"Your girlfriend," Walter answered. "She's very persuasive, very persuasive indeed."

Oh. So that's what he thought. For the first time in his life, Max Vandenberg blushed. She's not his. He calls her his in his head. He pretends she is by calling her terms of endearment. However, the facts remained. She's not and probably never will be. "Not my girlfriend. Just a friend. She's Hans' daughter."

"Oh," Walter blinked. "Well, let's go. The car's running."

"Wait, what," Max asked. "Go? Go where?"

"To Stuttgart, of course," Walter answered.

"I can't leave Liesel. I won't. I promised I'd never do that again."

Walter rolled his sky blue eyes, "For someone who's not your girlfriend she sure does know you well." Max's blush deepened. "Look, she knew you'd have something like this as an excuse and said she'd go too."

This was the day he remembered something his dear Aunt Ruth had told him after witnessing her give his uncle a list of chores. He had asked why she bossed him around so much and she actually smiled. "A woman shows her love by pushing her husband to do the difficult tasks in life. She helps become a good person and a better man by making him do the things he doesn't want to do. He may not want to do these things. He may be scared. But he'll do them for her. And someday, a good woman will do this for you. She'll force you to do the difficult tasks you don't want to do. And you may not want to, you may be scared, but you'll do them anyway. All because of her. And that's when you know it's love."

As Walter dragged him out of the flat, Max smiled, because in that moment he came to the most wonderful realization. He was in love with Liesel Meminger.

* * *

_4 days later_

The reunion was heartbreakingly beautiful. The family that once filled the house was now reduced to barely anything. His mother, his aunt, four older-looking cousins (much to Liesel's surprise, they're his age) and two of the children survived. They hugged. They wept. They rejoiced. Liesel was loved by the family but she heard his mother speaking in the kitchen. She said her son would not marry a gentile. Not over her dead body. Liesel's heart broke. Before she could let the ache start to show, she decided to respectfully back out.

**A SMALL NOTE**

**The book thief had lost two mothers three years ago,**

**three if you count Mrs. Steiner**

**The approval of Max's mother meant everything.**

Saying goodbye would be too painful. She's said enough of goodbyes to last two lifetimes. But she had a paper and pen. Maybe that'd cushion the blow. She started with a simple little note, but she couldn't do it. She told him everything. Whether the truth would set him free or be his cage she didn't know. The Book Thief silently prayed that it be the latter then began to write. When finished, she snuck into Max's room and placed the note on his bedside table. She stopped and stared at his face for the longest time before she stole the one thing she never had before. A kiss. She couldn't help herself. She just had to know how much this would hurt her. With that being done, Liesel tiptoed out of the house with her luggage and went straight to the train station.


	4. Leaving

She sat on her suitcase and watched the trains come and go. Just a few more minutes until it was her turn to climb aboard. Liesel let a small smile touch her lips. She was trying to be happy. Max had his family. He wouldn't have to hide anymore. No more lonely nights in a dark basement. No more torturous days in a concentration camp. It's all over for him now. This is his happily ever after.

Her train pulled up and she stood. Liesel looked behind her, in hopes he'd be there. Begging her to not leave, but that won't be happening. Her shoes clacked across the platform as she made her way to the train. The thief stole one last glace behind her. Maybe he couldn't find her. Maybe he was lost. She went to call him, but his name died on her lips. Before her heart could break anymore, Liesel stepped onto the train and made her way to her seat.

* * *

_Meanwhile_

He stared at the note and read it over and over. This can't be real. This is a bad dream. That's all it is. He pinched himself and winced. No, this is real. This is as real as Dachau. This is as real as the basement.

This is real.

There was an ache in his chest. Why must life be complicated? Why does everything have to have some sort of complexity to it? It's not fair. The Word Shaker, she saved him with words, won his heart with words and broke it the same way. The thing that he pines for is the same thing that's killing him. Her words.

Shakily, Max made his way into the kitchen to eat breakfast. Almost instantly, Sarah ran to him. She's six years old and had been clinging to him as if he were life itself. He assumed it was because they still haven't found her parents. Numbly, Max held her in his lap while he tried to eat. But, Sarah's observant for a child. She just seems to know everything without being told. "Uncle Max," she whispered. They're cousins but she's always called him Uncle Max.

"Yes Sarah," he replied. His voice sounded tired and beaten.

"You seem sad," she mumbled to him. Oh, the mumbling. That's all she's ever done since their family came back together. She's doesn't chirp up anymore and ramble on and on for hours over the simplest of things. Now it's just simple phrases, soft whispers, and mumbled terms. "Are you sad?"

There was a long pause. He bit his lip and then croaked out one word. "Yes."

"Why," she softly asked with wide brown eyes. "Do you miss someone too?"

"Yes, I do. Someone very special," he answered as he ran a hand through her hair.

"Who," she question..

"I'll tell you when you're older."

* * *

_4 Months Later in Molching, Germany_

It was hard but she made it. Every day was a fake smile and forced laugh. But going home was getting harder and harder. To walk through the streets alone to an empty house, and before bed she whispers a goodnight to the air. Then after a night of dreams of the feathery haired man, she'd wake up and repeat the process. One day in the bookstore, a tall, dark haired man walked through the store. "Hello," he called.

"In the back," she called. "I'll be with you in a moment sir." The voice. It sounded so familiar. Her stomach tightened. Please don't be Max. Please not him. Liesel walked out of the back and to the front, trying to seem relaxed.

"Hello, Liesel," the man said, "I'm Isaac Aarons, Max's cousin."

"Cousin?"

"Yes, I'm the one that had that little boxing match with him when you were over."

"Oh."

A silence settled into the air. They looked at each other for a long time before Isaac gave an uneasy smile, "May I have a word?" She nodded and gestured for him to follow her to the storeroom in the back. "Max misses you."

"I miss him too."

"Then come back," he said.

"I can't just leave," she whispered. So much entered her mind at once. Bills, work, promises, memories; as much as she'd like to run away, she can't.

"Why," he asked.

Her shoulders sagged as if she were carrying a great weight. "Look around you. I can't leave all this behind, no matter how badly I want to. I have bills to pay, promises to fulfill, and the memories…I can't run from them no matter where I go." She expected a rant, or a look of disgust, but she got neither. She got tender, understanding eyes and a sympathetic smile.

"Very well then," he said. "Until next time, then."

"Until next time."

**SOMETHING YOU SHOULD KNOW**

**Next time comes sooner than you think**


	5. Wishful Thinking

The clouds looked like cotton balls glued to a piece of blue-gray construction paper. As the sun sunk down behind the horizon, its golden rays were fading into gray. As the stars began to turn out the cotton ball clouds remained.

The silence was friend, a well-known one at that. It enveloped her in its embrace, welcoming her home. She poked at her dinner of potato soup. She flipped through her mail; all of it was junk mail, also known as bills.

She moved to the couch and plopped herself down. The silence became deafening as her mind drifted through memories like dandelion fuzz in the wind. What's it like to not be alone? What's it like to always be bumping into someone? What's it like to have little ones zipping around your feet, making you trip over your own feet? What is it like to not know silence?

Sleep was stolen from a thief that night. Every time her brown eyes fluttered closed visions of Max Vandenberg infiltrated her mind. What is she to do? Liesel did the only thing she knew how to do; she wrote. She wrote about her and Max, and her dreams of the two of them sitting up and counting stars.

**THE WORDS OF THE WORD SHAKER**

**And the two of us will thank God for the stars that bless our eyes.**

**And we will count them one by one because our love will be the kind that time stops for.**

Liesel read over her own work over and over. She drank them in like apple cider. In that moment she realized something. She truly was in love with him and she wanted him to love her back. This was no longer a fascination. It truly was love. The more she thought about it became very clear that she's been in love with him ever since he raced her to the door.

Tears hit the ground like rain. Life is unfair. She can't live with him, and she can't live without him.

Just why can't life be fair for once?

* * *

_Meanwhile_

The small Jewish family boarded the train. Max stared out the window as the train started down the tracks. The scene outside would be the perfect postcard. Cows grazed in the distance as the sun went down. The cows, they looked peaceful, completely undisturbed by the rumpling of the train and its whistle's loud scream. The train picked up speed and the picture blurred. His mind wandered to Molching. Just what was the real reason his family wanted to move?

"I think it's time for a change of scenery, don't you," Isaac said. "I think it'll be good for everyone."

This caused great controversy. His Mama did not want to move, but he and his cousins were all for it.

Arguments seemed to break out like wild fire whenever the subject would spark to life. Some would argue back, his Mama being the one most likely to have a rebuttal. Whether it be "polite" or not, no one knew. Others would just roll their eyes at the well-worn argument.

Jacob, being the diplomat of them all, finally decided to end the madness.

"Majority vote," Jacob had yelled. "All for," he called, causing everyone but the two elder women to raise their hands. "All opposed," he called, the two women raised their hands. "It's decided; we're moving to Molching!"

Max froze. Did he say Molching? A smile made its way to his face. He'd finally get to see her again. Liesel, and maybe, just maybe he could tell her three little words.

I love you.

As he stared out the window Max daydreamed about a moment where he could say he loved her and they'd get the happy ending they've been waiting for. He hoped that she'd have him. He hoped life would be fair and let him have a bit of happiness with her. He simply just hoped life would be fair.

* * *

**A/N Thank you for sticking with me this far. I know I'm not the best writer in the world and I make a lot of mistakes, but just bear with me.**

**Stay Gold,**

**LaughingLadybug**


	6. Words Now Spoken

**A/N: This isn't all that great. I got a lot of criticism on this and I will admit, I cried. It hurt. But, I won't be giving up on this story anytime soon. A lot of it came from people who barely remember or have never read the book. I only got one or two review that helped. I'd like to thank those that do know the book for the reviews and support. It gave me a little more confidence than what I have left.**

**I'm rambling aren't I?**

**Anyway, onto the story.**

* * *

They stopped five feet from each other but it felt like they were only inches apart. They stared into each other's eyes for what seemed like an eternity. It was the first time he noticed how warm her eyes are. It reminded him of coffee.

Max's eyes tore away from hers and looked at her face. Liesel looked like a terrified angel. Wait, not terrified, but not happy either. If anything she looked surprised. Before he knew it, she had dropped the box she had been carrying and leaped into his arms. He held her close and ran a hand through her dirty blonde hair.

Liesel took a deep breath and breathed him in. He smelled of newspaper ink and rain. She breathed out a sigh and held onto him tighter, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He did not speak because he didn't need words; all Max did was listen to what she had to say. "I'm sorry I ran away from you. I was scared."

His brow creased together in confusion, "Of what?"

Now safe and sound in his arms, she didn't know. What was she afraid? "I don't know anymore," the now twenty year old whispered. "I don't know."

_Now's the time and the place, _Max thought to himself, "I love you, Liesel," he whispered. He knew it was sudden but he's been dying to say for so long that he couldn't wait any longer. There was long pause and he said it a little louder so she could hear, "I love you." Liesel still didn't say anything. Panic took over his body. Did she not love him back? The thought itself made him feel like someone was poking at his heart with a cold metal stick. But then, he heard the most beautiful words to ever come out of her mouth.

"I love you too, Max." For the first time she looked up at him and smiled and he smiled back then kissed her forehead. "It's starting to rain," Liesel said as the first few raindrops began to fall. He nodded in agreement then walked to the box of books that lay awkwardly on the ground and started walking with her to the book store.

It was there in the bookstore that Liesel and Max spilled their heart out. It was there in the back that they held their first kiss. It was quick but lasting, and sweet. They finally got a happy ending at the end of the day.

**HERE'S THE RUB**

**It gets worse from here.**


	7. The Ugly Happenings

**A/N: Special thanks to jodibug.**

It was a beautiful day. The sky looked like a water color painting of an Easter basket that had been washed out. The billowing clouds were the softest of blues and the air smelled of daisies. Amper River looked like it was made of emeralds due to its green sheen and the sparkles of light on the surface.

**A SMALL NOTE**

**The day's perfection was just a mask.**

Inside an old tailor's shops sits a man who died of a broken heart. In one hand was a bottle of scotch and the other was a photo of a family. It was him, a beautiful woman with an easy smile, and children with hair the color of lemons. The family he had lost when Himmel Street was obliterated.

Life meant nothing. The only thing he had left was a person. But, she had her prince charming now. And Alex Steiner truly did feel happy for the sole survivor of Himmel Street. So much death has cursed her life that it'd only be fair that she find some happiness with someone who had lived the same cursed life. And he knew she wouldn't stay around forever. She often talked of going off to Austria and starting a new life.

This is what broke him. Waking up alone, spending the day alone, and going to bed alone. There was not a Jesse Owens to turn the town upside down looking for. There was not a little girl clutching a one eyed teddy bear to run to him each and every day. There was nothing. No laughter. No smiles. Nothing.

Today Alex Steiner died of a broken heart. The next morning, the book thief would discover that her last connection to Himmel Street had been severed by death itself.

* * *

A mother's heart was shattered this day. Her little boy, the only thing she has left of her husband, wasn't so little anymore. His mother is no longer the center of his world. He's a strong willed man now who had a life of his own; one that his mother need not concern herself with. "No, absolutely not, Max! I will not allow my son to be fraternizing with a gentile. Now sit down and eat your oatmeal."

"Nein," the man whispered.

"What did you say," she asked.

Everyone that sat around the table froze and watched the scene unfold before them. "I said no," Max answered, sounding a little braver.

"Max Aaron Vandenberg," she exclaimed, "how dare you say no to me."

"I very dare," he said, standing. "And I say it again. Nein! Nein! Nein!"

"Max," she gasped. He wasn't always the best behaved but this was way out of character for him.

"No Mama, you listen. I am a grown man. I am twenty six now and I'll be with who I please. I love you, you know I do, but you no longer control what I do, nor who I see. This is my decision, Mama, whether you like it or not."

She always thought that the term, "you're breaking my heart," was just a term. She cried when Erik, her husband, died in World War I. She sobbed when Max asked why he didn't have a father when he was five. And it ached when she saw him walk out the door the day he went into hiding. But never before did she feel her heartbreak.

That is, until today.

It was then when reality hit her so hard it could knock a train off its tracks. The precious baby boy she held in her arms what only seemed like a day or so ago, was now a man. He was an independent man in love with someone. Her son would do as he pleased; knowing he no longer needed her consent. The old mother bit her lip and resisted the urge to stop Max from walking out the door.

And for the first time Miriam Vandenberg felt her heart shatter like a piece of glass and ripped her apart from the inside.

* * *

In the very same afternoon, a woman's hopes would be dashed. Her foster siblings that she never knew would come over for Sunday Lunch like they have since their parents died. Liesel made an offhanded comment about how she was seeing somebody. Trudy squealed like a school girl and Hans Jr. ignored them and ate his food. He couldn't care less of what this man was like or how "beautiful his swampy eyes are."

However, Hans Hubberman Jr. , the ex -Nazi, changed his mind the moment the word Jewish was said.

They screamed. They fought. He told her that he would not allow her to associate herself and this family with Jewish scum. She told him that she'd associate herself with whoever she pleased and he wasn't a brother to her in the first place. The fight continued.

"How dare you, you ungrateful pig! My mother and father take you in as one of your own and you ruin their name while they lay dead in their graves," Hans Jr. yelled.

"Me," Liesel screeched. "You're the one who ruined their name while running around as one of Hitler's little henchmen! You don't deserve the name Hans Hubberman!"

Smack. Her right cheek throbbed as she hit the ground. Hans Jr. muttered a few curses under his breath and stormed out the door into the beautiful afternoon. Liesel cried. She had lost another brother. Her hopes of one big happy family were gone.

**A BIT OF IRONY**

**All these ugly happenings took place on a beautiful day**


	8. Someday, Maybe

"We're going to the book store! We're going to the book store," little Sarah sang over and over as she held Max's hand. At one point he even joined her sing-song cadence. Why not? She'll only be this little once and it's been a long time since he's heard her at this volume. Besides, today was going to be a very good day.

It had been a year today since he told Liesel Meminger he loved her.

Max looked around him while the little girl's voice next to him seem to fade. He smiled slightly because he couldn't help but notice the sky. The clouds looked like the world's longest tightrope and the sun did not look like the sun. It was just a yellow hole in the sky.

Is this the loveliness he missed out on that day? It seems like it was all a hundred years ago. Max remembers a younger Liesel coming down the stairs after delivering a load of laundry for her Mama. He couldn't help himself but ask; it was like an itch that wouldn't go away until he scratched it. He asked her what the weather was like and she told him it was just like this. The clouds made a tightrope to the sun. Then he painted it on the wall of the basement at 33 Himmel Street so he could have a piece of that day too.

Suddenly, Sarah let go of his hand and ran in front of him and straight into Liesel's store. Liesel greeted the child with open arms. "Hello libeling," Liesel said to the young girl.

"Hi Aunt Liesel," Sarah chirped. Liesel blinked in confusion. But then Max walked in the room and saw the quizzical expression on her face, then mouthed the words "Go with it." She smiled at him in acknowledgement then turned to Sarah.

"What brings you here today, Fraulein," she asked while brushing a little of the child's brown bangs out of her eyes.

"Onkel Max said he was coming here and I asked and he said yes," Sarah answered, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"Correction," Max said with a chuckle. "You grabbed onto my leg and wouldn't let me walk out the door without you."

"Is that true," Liesel asked with an arched eyebrow.

In shame, she bit her lip and looked down. "Yes, Aunt Liesel," she murmured.

"Well then," the older woman answered in a teasing voice, "I guess you shouldn't see the surprise I have for you then."

The child looked up, heartbroken. All she wanted to see was her aunt Liesel and now she was being punished for it, at least that's what she thought. She looked up to search her aunt's face for any type of forgiveness only to discover she was kidding. In all her excitement she took enough time to hug Liesel as tightly as her frail six year old arms would allow before running to the back.

There was a brief silence before both adults made sure the child was gone. When both were assured of that they kissed each other hello.

Liesel pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at his face. "Aunt Liesel," she asked.

He moved his hands from her waist and held them up in surrender. "She came up with that on her own," Max said calmly.

"And you encouraged it?"

"I didn't discourage it."

She laughed a little and smiled. The rest of the afternoon stayed like this, the atmosphere was light and happy. They seemed to flow around each other as they worked around the book store. It was never silent. One of them was cracking jokes and the other was laughing or they were talking about a book or music or the day itself. Liesel couldn't help but think how easy this all was. The two of them just seemed to go together and having a child as young as Sarah seemed all the more natural.

And Liesel, being a fool in love, couldn't help but think about the future. Maybe one day she'd be the Mrs. Max Vandenberg and they'd have little children of their own. She doesn't know how to be a mother, but with Max by her side, helping her with their child, they'd work their way through it.

**WHAT LIESEL DOESN'T KNOW**

**Max thought about children too, but not as positively.**

Many months later on an unseasonably warm Spring Sunday, Max walked into Liesel's flat where she sat in a rocking chair with an infant lying on her shoulder. Max froze in the doorway."Where did that come from?"

"My neighbor," she answered, "they're ill and asked me to watch him."

"How long," he asked.

"Um," she said, taken back by his strange behavior, "a few days, maybe a week," she answered cautiously. "Max, are you alright?"

"Fine," he said, turning to leave.

"Wait, where are you-"

"I'll be back when the little one's gone," he said.

"Max, stop," she said, her plea sounding more or less like a command. Surprisingly he stopped. "What's wrong?"

"I can't be here with him," he said.

"Him," Liesel questioned, "do you mean the baby? Frank?" He nodded and went to leave again. "You're honestly running away with your tail between your legs because of a baby?" Anger and shame entered his veins, his muscles tensed and a tired and beaten look crossed his face. He looked whipped.

"No," Max said slowly. "It's _you_ with a baby that scares me."

"You're kidding," she said. "What's so threatening about that?" Baby Frank stirred in her arms. Liesel shushed him and kissed his forehead before sitting down again. She patted the spot next to her but Max did not move. Liesel's voice softened along with her brown eyes, making her look all the more loving. "Please talk to me," she begged.

"You won't get it."

"Maybe I will."

He sighed. Both of them are fighters and they both can keep this up all night. But how can he say it without being too forward? How do you say, "Marrying and having kids with you scares me because I wouldn't know what to do?" The walls started to close in. Max looked at the child's face and then looked at his beloved. Worry was written all over her fine features. "I can't do it," he whispered.

"Can't do what?"

"Have a family. Be a father. I can't do it, any of it."

"And you think I do?"

"Obviously you do," he said, gesturing to Frank. "He's content with you. Just look at how he's clinging to you."

"Max, he cried himself to sleep. I couldn't comfort him. The only reason why he's clinging to me is because he misses his Mama," she murmured. "Max I don't know how to be a mother."

The feather haired man moved closer to his love. An awkward silence settled between them like an anvil. After a few moments, Max spoke. "So what do we do now? Where do we go from here?"

Liesel rocked back and forth with her neighbor's child in her arms. She thought hard. Where do they go from here? This was not a light matter after. She wet her lips and her dark eyes locked with his, "We worry about it when we get there. And if we do marry and if we do have kids, then we'll learn as we go."

All Max did was nod and put an arm around her and watched the child in her arms, just trying to imagine it as his. And to tell the truth, he was starting to warm up to the idea. Slowly, but surely, he was warming up.


	9. Selfish

**A/N: Okay so I'm stuck on a title for this chapter. Any ideas?**

* * *

The old woman stayed home as the rest of her family left the house. Her son stopped in the doorway and turned to her, "Are you sure, Mama?"

"Ja," she mumbled.

He sighed. Why must she be so stubborn? He closed his eyes for a brief moment, just grasping at clarity. The women who practically stood on a soap box every night about how discrimination is wrong is the same woman who refuses to go to dinner at his freundin's home only because she is a gentile, "Mama when does this madness end?"

"When you find someone decent," the older woman said.

"I already have," Max answered. He then went towards her and to Miriam's weathered hands in his. "Please Mama. Let her be."

Miriam took a deep breath then sighed. It wasn't that Liesel's a gentile, no not at all. It's just an excuse that she deemed legitimate in her own head. Let her be viewed as the old widow stuck in the old ways. That's just fine. But she won't show this side of her, the selfish mother. Her son is a man in love. And one day soon this girl will take her son away from him.

That is why Miriam Vandenberg does not like Liesel Meminger.

She is selfish.

She wants to go back to the time where her son is just a baby and her husband his playing his accordion as softly as possible to put him back to sleep. Now that was a life. But she can't have her husband back and Max will never be a baby again. So she did the only thing a mother could do. She hoped he'd never leave. But now all hopes were gone.

Her baby bird is leaving the nest.

"Mama," Max asked, his voice sounded far away.

She sighed and brought her hands to his face, "Someday you'll understand."

Max's eyes hit the ground then met with his mother's. Without a word he pulled away and walked out the front door.


	10. The Wedding

Wedding days are normally a happy day, especially for the bride. But this bride's hands were shaking as her dirty blonde hair tumbled over her shoulder. She gave a little groan. She wished her parents were there. She dreamed about her mother walking into the room and ordering her to stand up so she could fix the dress, "Don't slouch," Rosa would snap. "Try and look presentable for your wedding, Sausmench." And then Hans would walk in and tell Rosa to leave her alone. "You go too easy on this girl," she would say.

Hans would roll his silver eyes and turn to Liesel, "Are you ready?"

She would nod and say, "Yes Papa." He'd smile and take her arm to walk her down isle to give her away.

Liesel was shocked out of her day dream by a knock on the door. "Liesel, are you in there," a young woman's voice called. "Can I come in?"

Edith. "Yes," Liesel called back as she stood up. The door knob turned and in walked not only Edith but three other women. Edith, her mother Ruth, and surprisingly Miriam walked in and buzzed around her like bees around a flower. The fluffed the skirt of her dress, and brushed the hair from her face.

"You look beautiful," Edith said, after taking a step back. The two elder women nodded in agreement. The dress itself was breath taking. You'd think it was made of snowflakes and pieces of ice considering the way the sun hit it through the near by window through the gaps in the curtain.

Liesel smiled humbly."Thank you," she whispered to them.

Miriam turned to Edith and Ruth, "Give us a moment alone, please." the two women nodded before giving Liesel a hug and promised to see after the ceremony. Miriam turned and looked the brown eyed woman in the eyes. "Liesel," she started.

"Yes Ma'am?"

"Take care of him. That's all I ask of you as a mother, take care of my son," Miriam begged. Right now she looked ancient, years of worry and hard work taking its toll on her. If you looked closely, you could see a deep scar hidden in the folds of her wrinkles, similar to the one on Liesel's back from the day she saw Max being marched to Dachau.

"I will, I promise," Liesel said as she took Miriam's old, scarred hands in hers.

Her hand reached up and brushed a stray strand of hair out of Liesel's eyes. "Danke, liebe." With that being said, Miriam left the room and went to sit with Ruth. The door opened and Liesel walked out of the room, up the aisle and straight to Max and the waiting rabbi. Time seemed to slow down with each and every step.

She closed her eyes and imagined her father walking her down this very isle while Rosa, the woman with the cardboard face, let tears streaked down her wrinkled skin. She imagined Hans whispering he loved her in her ear and going back to sit with his wife, for once neither one argues. As Max smashes the glass beneath his foot, a big whoop goes up and their family cheers. But there's more than Vandenburgs and Aarons there. She can see her Mama and Papa, and the Steiners and the rest of all her dear friends of Himmel Street.

Rudy was there in the blue suite she had stolen for him all those years ago and waving along with all the other Steiner kids, trying to get her to wave back. Mama and Papa were looking on with pride written all of over their wrinkly faces. It was the first time she saw her Mama smile. Her Papa had tears in his silvery eyes but was smiling nonetheless. Liesel smiled at the empty seats in the back.

Later that night, Liesel asked Max, "Did you see them, too?" Somehow, her husband knew what she was talking about.

"No," Max answered slowly, "but I felt them."


	11. Someday is Today

The sky was pretty despite the storm outside. It was the same silvery color of her father's eyes. The snowflakes were falling down to earth outside the window of the bookstore. The wind made it look more like dancing than falling, though.

The book thief sat inside her bookstore lost in yet another book. She sat in her chair behind the counter as her feet swung off the side.

Liesel Vandenberg had been married six months now to Max.

The young woman tore her attention away from _The Secret Garden _and looked up at the clock.It's almost time to go home but how can she with news like this?

Max Vandenberg already made it clear. He does not want children. However, Liesel did and according to the doctor she saw earlier that day, she would be having their child in about nine months. Just the thought made her head hurt.

As much as she loves her husband, Liesel Vandenberg did not want to go home. _Maybe just one more chapter, _she thought to herself as she picked up her book again. One chapter went by, then two, then three. Suddenly, she heard the tinkling of bells, signaling that someone was entering her little hole in the wall. She jerked her head up only to be greeted by Max's face.

He didn't look happy. She couldn't say she blamed him.

"There you are," he said upon entering the small store. In all honesty, the poor man was exhausted. Work was brutal as is but today the hours just seemed to drag on. All Max wanted to do was come home, eat and sleep. But that did not happen. He spent his hours worrying about Liesel. She's free to do whatever she wants, he does no own her. But as the storm began to pick up and night began to fall, he grew all the more anxious. It's all he could do.

But now Max's past being anxious and worried. Now he's just annoyed. "I'm sorry, I just," she started, but he wasn't listening.

The two of them walked home, and managed small talk. He avoided the adventures of his day and she avoided hers. It was more or less small talk. "I saw some kinder today. A sweet little boy and girl, I think they were sibling. The little girl came in with money to buy a book up on a high shelf. She couldn't reach so her brother put her up on his shoulders to get it and then he bought the book for her."

"That's nice," Max said. He told her about how he and one of his co-workers might have a poker night one night.

"That's nice," she said. Soon they were home at their flat. Dinner was waiting for them in the oven. The silence that settled in the house that night was thicker than pea soup.

A little voice in the back of Max's head told him something was wrong. It played on in his head like a broken record, one that no one bothered to take off the record player. Max finally decided to end the song after dinner before they went to bed. He pulled her close, "I'm sorry," he murmured in her ear. "Today was just a bad day. I was cold, tired and grumpy and I shouldn't take it out on you."

She pulled away. "Max, it's fine."

"No it's not," he replied. "The last time you refused to look at me you were planning on never seeing me again." Max sat down on their bed.

"Max, I promise, everything's fine. I'm fine."

"Then why won't you look at me?" Liesel's eyes fell to the ground while she shuffled her feet. "Please talk to me."

"You-you won't be happy," she croaked out. For once, the word shaker was all out of words.

"Why would I be," he questioned.

Liesel bit her lip in contemplation. Well, he's got her cornered now and this isn't something that she can keep hidden forever, especially from her husband. So, she leaned forward and whispered the one thing she was sure he didn't want to hear. "I'm pregnant."

In that moment, he forgot how his muscles work. Max's mind was just a foggy mess. It was like trying to see through murky water, pointless. But then he looked up and saw the fearful look in his wife's eyes. _I'm a selfish man; _he thought to himself, _it's not just about me anymore_. Then for Liesel's sake, he smiled and she smiled back.


	12. Confrontation

He tried to ignore it. Oh, Lord knows he tried. But, it was like trying to ignore the inevitable. This was happening whether he liked it or not. Max tried so very hard for his wife's sake to smile. For nearly nine months to the day, Max Vandenberg was not only a fist fighter, but an actor as well. But at night, when the silence became deafening, Max couldn't help the sick feeling in his stomach.

A father, he's going to be a father and it terrified him. Bring him the biggest, the meanest, the strongest man in all of Germany and a good reason, he'd fight him without hesitation. He'd even smile. But tell him to raise a family of his own and he'd freeze in his tracks.

Liesel on the other hand was fine. She was smiling and dreaming about this baby. She said she wanted to name him Hans Erik or Erik. "I think it'd be nice to name him after your father or mine."

"And what if it's a girl," Max asked, not looking up.

"Rosa Marie," she said. He didn't argue about not including his mother's name.

Months passed. And day by day, he felt sick. No, not sick; sick is the wrong word. Max was scared.

Then, one September day, Liesel went into labor. Their neighbor, Frau Westerfield, came over after Max ran over and begged her for her help, and delivered the baby. Anna Westerfield thought she'd have to force Max out of the room, but he left without much of a fight.

For four hours, he sat in the corner and prayed to God that everything was all right. He prayed until his mouth was dry and his hands ached from clutching them so hard. His swampy eyes grew heavy and before Max knew it he was asleep. It was deep and dreamless. Just what he needed, but it didn't last long. It seemed like moments after he fell asleep a sharp cry filled the air.

Max didn't want to run. He wanted to sit in his chair and slip in when the two members of his family were asleep. But it didn't happen that way. Max ran as fast as he could into his and Liesel's bedroom and smiled at his wife and child, pride gleaming in his swampy eyes.

But, this is not the moment he and his son bonded for the first time.

At three am in the morning, an infant screamed for what seemed like the hundredth time. Max stood with a slight groan and picked up his son. This time he did not dare wake Liesel, the poor woman had been through enough already. Instead, Max sat in front of the fireplace, cradling the bundle to his chest. For a while they just rocked back and forth. The only sound was the creak of the old chair and the crackle of the fire. The baby boy snuggled into his father's chest with a tiny yawn and a stretch. Max just held him.

After a while longer, he spoke. "I'm new at this," Max whispered. "I've never had a father and I've never been one myself. You're almost a day old so I guess you're old enough to know I was scared. Half of me wished you wouldn't be born." Max's voice grew softer with emotion, "But I was wrong to think that. You're just a little thing, so helpless. I was wrong." The man stopped talking for a while and just took it all in. The silence of the night, the small weight in his arms he calls his child, the crackling fire, the creak of the rocking chair; everything. Again, Max spoke. "Like I said, I'm new at this. But then again, so are you. You've never been someone's son before. So why don't we just all learn this together, eh?"

With that being said, Max looked down and realized the child had been asleep an hour. So, he stood up and carried his son to the cradle and tucked him in. As Max climbed back into bed, he couldn't wipe the tired yet triumphant smile from his face.

Give him the best of fighters, bring him the toughest men in Germany; no confrontation will be greater than the one he just faced.

* * *

**A/N: Should the baby's name be Hans or Erik?**


	13. Viktor's Smart Feet

A tired, old man stumbles through the empty streets of Molching, desperately searching for the family he's almost certain that he lost. As much as he'd like to give up, the tiny seed of hope in his chest refuses to let him. So his search continued. According to the orphanage, his children were sent here, to Molching. The leaves crunched beneath his boots. He went door to door, asking if anyone knew what became of Liesel and Werner Meminger.

No one seemed to know.

But one faithful night, he got the news. A few years ago, Himmel street was bombed. There was only one survivor, a little girl that wandered the streets, clinging to an accordion. Her name was Liesel.

Viktor Meminger felt sick and joyous all at once. His daughter is alive and his son is dead. But his daughter is alive. But his son is dead. This battle went on in his mind for what seemed like days. Should he rejoice or mourn? _You dumbkompf, _Viktor berated himself; _this is your entire fault! Why couldn't you keep your mouth shut? _

For days, he mourned. His daughter was left alone for who knows how long because of him. A few more days passed, then a week and then a month. The cost of his room and board went up as the money in his wallet seemed to disappear. No one would give him a job. Not that they could. The war had sucked the money out of everyone like a flea sucking blood.

However, all this misfortune led to a small sliver of luck. Viktor was tired and hungry and standing on his last leg. He went door to door asking for something different this time. He was begging for room and board. He'd swear to work and pull his weight and he'd say the same line over and over, "Only until I get back on my feet."

Some would slam the door in his face without a word; others would come up with a rushed excuse before quickly closing the door.

Just when every other aspect of Viktor gave up, his feet kept going. For some reason, his feet were the smartest part of him. It was his feet that carried him to Himmel Street. Maybe they figured that there'd surely be one kind soul in a place named after Heaven?

It was there that his feet ran into the feet of a feathery haired man who took pity upon his soul ,after hearing his story, and carried him straight to the girl he'd been looking for.

Yes, Viktor's feet are smarter than the rest of him. They brought him to where he needed to be and got him a place to stay without being told. They kept him going when the rest of him gave up. Very impressive, isn't it? Maybe Viktor should start thinking with them instead of his head.


	14. The Secrete

It didn't take long for Viktor to realize that this was his daughter's home. It didn't take long for Max to realize this was his father-in-law. Both are smarter than they seem. "I'll tell her myself, if you'd like," Max offered one Sunday afternoon.

"Nein," Viktor replied. "Not yet."

"Don't you want to know her?"

"Yes," he said then swallowed, "but she may not want to know me." Max looked at the older man quizzically, asking a simple and silent question. "She wouldn't have gone through all that she had if it weren't for me."

"I see," mumbled Max. "You know she'll figure it out sooner or later."

"I know," said Viktor somewhat morosely, "but we'll cross that bridge when we get there." Max held up his hands in surrender. Something in the back of his head told him that this wasn't a fight he should keep fighting. Not at the moment, anyway. This was between Liesel and Viktor. Not Liesel, Viktor and himself.

Months passed and his secrete remained. Viktor slowly became part of the background for Liesel. It'd be strange not seeing him there. She gave him a job at the bookstore and they all ate dinner together. They laughed and talked with each other as if they've all known one another for years. Viktor was there for holidays and celebrated along with then, or at least tried to when it came to the Jewish holidays.

He was there for his baby Han's first birthday and there when Liesel announced she was pregnant for the second time. Viktor had never been happier to be a part of a family. But, he knew he couldn't stick around forever. The years of being a part of his little girl's life was done and over. Now, she has to live her own life. As much as it killed Viktor to leave her again, he did it anyway.

"So you're just going to disappear without a word, again," Max asked one day while on his way to work. Viktor was packing his bags and Liesel was at the bookstore with Hans.

"Yes," answered Viktor. He stood up and looked Max in the eye. "You don't tell her a thing. Understand?"

"I can't lie."

"You won't be lying, you'll be omitting," Viktor reasoned. "I highly doubt she'll ask if I'm her father. I even doubt she remembers her birth father so why would she ask?"

"And if she does ask or says something along the lines of wondering where he is, what am I to tell her. 'Oh, remember that man that lived with us for six months? That was him. He made me promise not to tell you until he ran out the door with his tail between his legs.'"

Viktor shook his head and sighed. "No. Just tell her you've met him. Tell her he loves her and tell her he says he's not good enough to be in her world. Ja?"

A long, hesitant pause settled between the two men like an anchor settle into the bottom of the sea. The staring match between the two was intense. No one blinked. No one moved. At one point it looked like they were holding their breath. Somehow Max remembered how to make his muscles work. It was a small, practically inaudible, sound, but Viktor heard it. "Ja." With that being said, Max left and went out the door towards his work. The only thing on his mind was Liesel. _How can I betray her like this?_


	15. Little Children

Little children are a blessing but a difficult one. If it wasn't Hans with his chubby hand in the cookie jar it was Erik screaming his head off. If it wasn't Erik taking his soiled diaper off and throwing it in the floor, it was Hans finger painting on the wall.

It was like any other night. Hans was playing with his blocks while his father sat in his recliner reading the paper. His mother was in the other room tucking his baby brother, Erik, for bed time. Being as the two boys were a year apart, their bed times were about half an hour apart. Slowly, Hans grew more and more lethargic in his playing. Less giggles and little "narrations," were heard from the child. His tiny stomach churned. Hans laid himself down on their living room floor, abandoning his blocks.

Max looked up from his paper and saw his son in the floor. The little boy's dark hair was ruffled and his brown eyes were fluttering closed. At first, he smiled, thinking his son had worn himself out, but when he picked him up, and the child buried himself in his neck, Max realized this was not the case. He put his hand on his son's forehead and noticed he had a fever. "Liesel," he called.

"Just a minute," she called back. She was in the middle of burping Erik. The one year old was falling asleep on her shoulder. After feeling his little body grow limp against her chest, she tucked him in and kissed his forehead goodnight. She then stood herself up and walked into the living room to see her husband holding their eldest child while said child slept in his arms. But a small alarm in the back of Liesel's head told her something wasn't right. The smile on her face turned into a frown, "What's wrong."

"I think he's sick," said Max. He resisted the urge to laugh when Liesel immediately held out her arms for her child.

Hans stirred at the transition, sniffling slightly. "Mama," he whimpered.

"Oh," she cooed then made a shushing sound, "it's okay." In response, he curled in closer.

The next few hours were long for both parents. Between Erik and his healthy set of lungs and Hans and his cries for either of them, no one got any sleep. So, the next day, Max took a personal day. Hans was over joyed to have his Papa for the day and his Papa was happy to be with him, he just wished it was under happier circumstances.

"Papa," Hans coughed. "Me play."

"Not now, kumpel, you're sick," Max said as he fed him his soup. Normally, they let Hans feed himself but that day the child had refused to eat.

"Me no sick," he coughed out. He sounded awful. His high pitched voice was scratchy, like wool and he was as pale as a piece of paper.

Max chuckled and ruffled his brown hair, "Whatever you say." Hans grinned.

Later that night, when the little ones were snuggled up to one another, Max and Liesel stood over them, Max had his arms around her middle as Liesel leaned into him. They smiled down at their two children. "We did something right," Liesel murmured.

"No," Max said. "We did two things right."

Yes, children are a messy, frustrating, difficult blessing. But at the end of the day, when all is silent, and see them cuddled up in their blankets and clutching their teddy bears, you thank God for such a blessing.

* * *

**A/N: So, I realize this is an awful chapter. I'm reaching out to those of you who are reading this. Followers, reviewers, people who've just now jumped into the story...anyone. What do you want to see in the story? What are _your _ideas. I want to know because your opinion truly does matter to me. Please, feel free to message me with your ideas. Have a nice night!**

**Stay Gold,**

**LaughingLadybug**


	16. Of Good and Bad Dreams

"_Line up," the tall blonde man bellowed as he stepped into the small cabin. "I said line up! That includes you Sleeping Beauty," the German barked to the man sleeping in the corner. A younger man, marked with the curse of dark hair and dark eyes, helped him up. Max stood with a slight groan. Every muscle in his body ached. His throat felt as dry as a piece of toast._

_The other living skeletons all lined up in two lines, one on either side of the way too small room. The Nazi strut up and down the lines, calling off names, one by one. "Vandenberg." The breath hitched in Max's throat as he stepped forward. Much to his dismay, he wasn't the only one that did. Hans stood to his left, trying to look brave for a five year old and Erik to his right, his little hand slipping into his hand. Other names were called as Max resisted the urge to cry. He looked around for Liesel, but something told him she was already dead. _

_Women such as Liesel and children as young as Rosemary didn't seem to last long._

_He blinked away the tears and marched out of the building, holding his each of his sons' hands and following the Nazi to their death. "Papa," Erik asked. "Are we going to the zoo?"_

Max woke up in a cold sweat, his breathing was hollow and rapid. He shook his head, trying to get the image out of his mind. His family in a death camp, not his extended family of cousins and aunts and uncles (which was bad enough) it was his immediate family this time. His sweet little boys and innocent baby girl and his beautiful wife were being exterminated for one simple fact.

Liesel converted to Judaism, and Max was born a Jew. Therefore their children were Jewish, thus making them a Jewish family.

Fear grabbed him by the shoulders, pinned him against the wall and kneed him in the stomach. Max turned to Liesel's sleeping form for comfort. He breathed her in and touched her porcelain face. She turned towards him, her face inches from his. Her eyes slowly fluttered open. "Nightmare," she whispered. He nodded and she wrapped one arm around his waist and lifted her free hand up to touch his hair. He told her all about his nightmare and she just listened. Her eyes never wavered from his.

"And then I woke up," he finished. Max was shaking.

Liesel kissed his forehead and looked him in the eyes as she softly whispered, "You know that'll never happen."

"What if-"

"No what ifs, Max, no limitations just be happy for what we have now, two healthy boys, a sweet baby girl, and each other. Okay?"

He nodded, feeling content and kissed her forehead then her lips making sure that this dream that he held so close to him was real. "I love you."

"And I love you."


End file.
